


Assorted

by Kanookie



Series: Kinktober 2018 [1]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Aphrodisiacs, Begging, Blow Jobs, Body Swap, Bondage, Come Sharing, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Edgeplay, Established Relationship, Foot Jobs, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Kinktober 2018, Masturbation, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Service Top Julian, Teasing, facesitting, magical sex cure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-07-23 18:31:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16164482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kanookie/pseuds/Kanookie
Summary: Prompt fills for Kinktober 2018Edit: Just decided to put them all in one fic.





	1. Lucio/F!Reader - Facesitting

**Author's Note:**

> Hi enjoy I love u

It's quite difficult to stay angry at someone when they're so.... _persuasive._

 

You having trouble remembering what you were even upset about at this point, but Lucio's tongue is doing an _excellent_ job at changing your mind. Your grip on the intricate headboard is tight, as is his own on the flesh of your rear, guiding and encouraging the rocking motion of your hips, moaning as your shamelessly grind yourself against his face.

 

“ _Ha-aah – L-Lucio – mmh!_ ”

 

Your body curls into itself at the onslaught of pleasure, his tongue mercilessly flicking at your clit and making your thoughts scatter. All that exists in this moment is him, the endless ecstasy he assaults you with, and the orgasm that's creeping closer and closer with each roll of his tongue. “ _Oohh yes like that, just like that – fuck I'm, aah, I'm so close –_ ”

 

He grunts at a particularly rough buck of your hips, but before you can apologize, he uses his grip to make you do it again, his tongue hanging out of his mouth so your clit drags, filthy and perfect, against it on every roll. You cry out, unable to help yourself from reaching down to grab a fistful of his hair in one hand, steadying yourself as you take your pleasure.

 

“ _Mmfuck – ooh, oh I'm, ah!_ ”

 

Your orgasm crashes into you, your body shuddering with the force of it, Lucio still licking persistently at you, prolonging it, groaning as he drinks you in. You tentatively lift yourself up, not quite trusting your legs immediately after coming so hard, and shift over to sit next to his head. He's smirking, completely self-satisfied, making a show of licking his lips.

 

“Well then,” he says, and you immediately know you're going to hate what he has to say next. “Now that you're.... relaxed, are you ready to forgive me?”

 

All at once, you remember why you were angry, and also how you'd come – noting the irony – to decide on how to settle the dispute. As it is – legs still shaking, breathing not quite steady, body still tingling pleasantly – you can't work up the energy to properly glare at him, so you settle for looking decidedly unimpressed.

 

“No, Lucio, you're not off the hook for nearly selling my shop.”

 


	2. Asra/Reader - Begging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for Day 2 - Begging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This just in, Asra's 5 times easier to write in smut than Lucio

Asra is always happy to take the lead in the bedroom, giving you exactly what you want, what you need, or withholding it if the mood strikes. He can be playful and soft, or sly and teasing, or rough and stern, and any combination of the above. And no matter what, he always makes sure to take good care of you, leaving you sated and exhausted and feeling very very loved.

You have to say though, tied up and desperate is a _very_ good look on him.

The sight before you is nothing short of stunning; Asra, splayed out on the bed, arms and legs tied to the bed posts, entire body on display. The layer of sweat on his lovely skin shines in the candlelit room, punctuating the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to catch his breath. His body twitches sporadically, reacting to nonexistent stimulus as he comes down from the edge yet again. His lips are even more plump than usual, bruised from kisses and frequent bites, and the deep red flush spread across his cheeks and shoulders is a wonderful contrast to the rich bronze of his skin.

But his eyes... his eyes hold you captive. Throughout the night, all through the foreplay, and the teasing, and the edging, he's had the same look in his eyes. A sort of teasing confidence, his mischievous nature still ever present, a defiance that tells you he can still take more, he will not give you want you want so easily. Even tied up and at your mercy, he maintains control.

And _oh_ , how you want to see that restraint _crumble_ under your clever hands.

You run a hand across his chest, up to circle around his neck and grip onto his hair. A small tug meets no resistance, Asra baring his throat to you without hesitation. It brings a smile to your lips, the unreserved trust he has in you, perfectly willing to give you everything that he is should it make you happy, even before he knew you'd do the same for him. That feeling of love and affection for him fills you, warm and sweet and safe.

“You're doing so well, Asra,” Your voice is practically a purr, low and sultry, and you can feel a fine shudder run through him at the sound. He's always loved your voice. “You're being so good, following direction so well. And I know,” you lean in, lips brushing his ear as you speak, “that you can take more still. Isn't that right?”

“Ye–” His breath hitches in his chest as you take the lobe of his ear between your teeth, his answer coming out as a whine. “ _Yes._ ”

You respond with an approving hum, releasing his ear to focus on the spot just beneath it that always gets him going. Asra grunts at the sharp pain of your teeth digging in, but tilts his head to expose more of his neck in a silent request for more. You concede, sucking a mark into the spot your teeth marked, not letting up until it's deep purple and Asra is squirming beneath you, breathless moans freely escaping his mouth.

A trail of kisses leads you down to his chest, heaving and shiny with sweat. You're immediately drawn to his nipples, taking one between your fingers and rolling and pinching it while you lavish attention on the other with your tongue. He cries out, arching his back into the contact, arms twisting and pulling at his restraints. He's always been particularly sensitive here, part of the reason he prefers light fabrics for his wardrobe. They harden easily under your ministrations, and you mercilessly take advantage, teasing him, taking your time even as he tries futilely to gain some leverage and buck his hips, desperate for friction.

Finally, when he lets out a wordless sob, you detach from his chest, continuing your trail of open-mouthed kisses down his stomach, bypassing his dripping cock entirely to instead mouth and nip at the crease where his thigh meets his hip. His entire body is tense in anticipation, trembling, even holding his breath as he waits for you to just _touch him_. He's wound tight as a bowstring; it'd be so easy, with how much you've worked him over, to just straddle him right now and ride him until you're both spent and sated. You're almost, _almost_ , tempted to take pity on him.

But he hasn't given you what you want yet.

You sit up, grabbing a little glass bottle of lubricant and uncorking it. A sound from Asra has you looking up, and you find him watching you, eyeing the bottle in your hands as you tilt it to pour some onto fingers, spreading the slick until they're coated and glistening. His gaze is intense, hungry, pupils blown wide with lust, tracking your every move. You've no doubt the only thing stopping him from pushing you down to the bed and ravaging you are the silks around his wrists and ankles, and the thought makes your breath catch and your thighs squeeze together.

His eyes follow the path of your lubricated hand, watching as it drifts down between his legs, and fluttering shut when your slippery fingers trace his puckered entrance. You keep your own eyes on his face, taking in every minute change as you spread the oil before slowly pushing the tip of your middle finger in. This is far from the first time you've done this with Asra, but you're still careful, watching for any sign of discomfort or pain as you press your fingers in.

He moans, his hips shifting, trying again to get leverage to push back against your finger, to take it deeper. Despite his impatience, you take your time, stretching him, thrusting your finger in at your own pace, only adding another when his muscles relax. It's not nearly enough for him, you know, he can't get off like this, and you don't want him to – not yet. Because you know he can still take more.

“How is it, Asra? Feel good?” You ask when you've got three fingers in to the last knuckle and he's rolling his body along with the movements of your hands, biting his lip in concentration. He grunts in lieu of an answer, focused on riding your fingers as best he can, and well, that just won't do.

The sound he makes when you remove your fingers is _delicious_. High-pitched, desperate and needy, looking at you like you just took his favorite toy and broke it over your knee. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“You know,” you start, smoothing a hand along each of his thighs, tracing little nonsense patterns into his sweat soaked skin, “I'd say I'm being rather generous. Giving you all this attention, all this pleasure.... and you still haven't given me what I want.”

One of your hands reaches over, trailing a single finger feather-light up the underside of his untouched cock, wrenching a curse from him. It runs up and down a few times, so light you may as well not be touching at all, but Asra is still shuddering like you've wrapped your entire fist around him.

“You're close, right? You've probably been on the edge for a while now. I bet it wouldn't take much to finish you.” You let your other hand drift down, teasing the rim of his asshole, relishing the whine receive in response.

“I could. I'd be happy to, even. But you know what I want in return, don't you?” As you speak, you push your fingers back in, an obscene squelching sound accompanying the action, along with his groan. You lean forward, waiting until his eyes focus on you. “All I want is for you to ask nicely.”

Asra's eyes flicker with uncertainty; torn between being defiant, prolonging this sweet torture, or giving in. For a moment, as he bites his lip, he seems to choose the former – but when you remove your hands from him completely, his resolve comes crashing down.

“Please! Please, let me come. I need to come, I can't take anymore, I'm so close, I need you _pleasepleaseplease_ –” He continues like that for a few moments, desperate babbling in an effort to appease you, until finally, you stop him, pleased smile spreading across your face as you pick up the bottle of oil again.

“Good boy,” you praise, spreading the oil onto your fingers. You set the oil down and waste no time pressing three fingers into him, his cry of relief nearly drowning you out. “ _Very_ good.”

With that, you duck down, wrapping your free hand around his cock and taking it into your mouth, sucking hard. Like you'd predicted, it doesn't take long for him to finish, with your mouth tight around him and fingers massaging his prostate mercilessly, he announces his orgasm with a shout, his come coating your tongue thickly as you coax every drop out of his softening dick.

Finally, you let go with a 'pop' sound, slipping your fingers out of him gently. His body is twitching, aftershocks of pleasure still coursing throughout his limbs, his breathing still labored. Still, he doesn't resist, as you lean in to kiss him deeply, moaning as you share you share the taste of his come with him. When you part, he smiles lazily at you. “Thanks. That was great.”

You return his smile, and reach to untie the silks binding him to the bed. “Anytime. You did so well, Asra. I definitely wouldn't mind doing that again.”

He waits to reply until the last cloth falls away. “Neither would I. But–” You yelp in surprise as he grabs you suddenly, flipping your positions so that he hovers over your shocked form, smiling mischievously. “Until then, let's see if I can teach you a few things.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](%E2%80%9D)


	3. Julian/Reader - Edgeplay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 - Edgeplay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I'm Alexa and I've never finished anything on time ever

There's a sort of artistic beauty to Julian at times like these. When he's spread out before you, naked and vulnerable. He puts himself completely at your mercy, to touch and tease however you see fit, or not at all if you so choose. The world falls away here; no overarching plots, no life-or-death situations, no time constraints or responsibilities. Just him, submitting himself to your will, completely exposed and trusting.

 

You take him in hand again, and his entire body reacts immediately; his breathing picks up, hips bucking into your grip, hands twist into the sheets. He's getting to the point of desperation now, having endured your teasing for the better part of an hour. A firm stroke has him crying out, another has him begging. When you twist your hand around the head, his back arches, a high-pitched mewl escaping him.

 

The next few minutes are spent watching the changes of Julian's face as he nears the edge again. His eyes are screwed shut, his teeth biting down so hard on his bottom lip the skin around it has turned white. His breath comes out in harsh puffs, and as you look on, his head tips back into the pillows behind him, exposing the long line of his throat as he moans loudly. Suddenly, his hips thrust into your hand seemingly involuntarily, body tensing all at once as he calls out urgently.

 

“Oh, _oh,_ I'm gonna – I'm gonna come, I'm gonna _come–_ ”

 

Heeding his warning, you let go of his cock, flushed deep red and leaking generously, and watch as it falls to lay against his stomach, twitching sporadically. He chokes out a sob, fisting the sheets tightly, his body still locked in the tension of near orgasm. After a few moments, he slowly relaxes, breathing out a deep breath before finally opening his eyes and looking up at you. The magnitude of emotion in his gaze would have knocked you flat had you been standing; as it is, you can't help but lean over him to kiss him. He returns it eagerly, greedily, hand coming up to curl around your neck and deepen it, clearly reluctant to let you go.

 

When you finally part, you smile at him and sit up, already reaching for his aching member. “Again?”

 

Julian shudders, but keeps his eyes on you as he nods once. “Again.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find mehere


	4. Asra/F!Reader - Spanking + Mirror Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4 - Spanking + Mirror Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one was fun ngl

“ _Watch yourself._ ”

 

With a whine, you squeeze your eyes shut tighter, fingers scrabbling on the smooth surface of the mirror; trying to find a handhold to steady yourself, gain some leverage, push back against him–

 

_Smack!_

 

“ _Aah!_ ”

 

“Aahh, you got so tight around me just now, did you like that?” His hand smooths over your rear, caressing the spot he'd struck. It stings slightly under his touch – he hadn't been gentle – and you whine again, pressing back in a silent plea. “Mm, do you want more?”

 

You don't get a chance to answer – not verbally, at least – before his hand meets your flesh again, and you cry out. “Ah! A-Asra! Ngh!”

 

A shuddering sigh behind you and then lips are at your ear. “I told you to watch, didn't I? There's no point to the mirror if you don't look.” Fingers grip your hips tightly, pulling you to meet him as his thrusts get harder, pleasured grunts escaping him to accompany the loud ' _smack_ ' sounds of your skin meeting his. “ _Ha-aah,_ come on.. l-look at it, you're missing – _fuck, so tight –_ missing the show..”

 

It takes a moment before you can decipher what he said through the haze of pleasure fogging over your mind, and another still to regain control over your eyelids, cracking them open to peer at the reflection in front of you. The first thing to draw your eye is Asra, gaze focused on something between your bodies as he continues to fuck you. Seeing him so absorbed in you, so close to losing himself, sends a jolt of arousal through you straight to your core, and you watch as Asra's head leans back, a groan escaping him.

 

“ _Ah, ah_ , you're so tight right now, so w– _shit_ – so wet, it feels amazing around my cock,” You whimper at his words, arching your back, wanting more and he curses at the change in angle, looking up and meeting your stare in the mirror. “ _Oh_ , just look at you...”

 

You oblige, meeting your own eyes and – oh, isn't _that_ something. You can only describe your appearance as... debauched. Eyes wild and lust blown, sweat covering every expanse of skin, lips swollen from kisses and your own teeth; you look like a different person entirely, a creature borne of sex and desire.

 

Asra's voice sounds in your ear again. “Beautiful, aren't you? I don't – don't think I'll ever get tired of seeing you get lost in pleasure.”

 

You _do_ look lost in pleasure. You _feel_ lost in pleasure. Even now, watching yourself get fucked, you can feel yourself nearing the precipice, getting closer and closer every second, and finally, you can't keep your eyes open anymore against the onslaught. “ _Asra.._ Asra please!”

 

“ _Hmm_? What's that?”

 

“Again.. spank me again, _ooohh please..._ ”

 

Asra laughs, the sound breathy and strained. “Well, since you asked so nicely...”

 

One hand detaches from the tight grip on your hip, sliding down to caress your rear tenderly, before pulling back and coming down hard.

 

_Smack!_

 

“ _AH!_ ”

 

“Mm, you should see the way it shakes when I slap it.. _so fucking hot_...”

 

_Smack! Smack! Smack!_

 

Three times more, in quick succession, and you're writhing in his grip, pressing back into the contact. You're so close, so very close, just a little more...

 

_SMACK!_

 

Asra's hand comes down, harder than before, at precisely the same time that he hits a certain spot inside of you, and suddenly you're coming so hard you're seeing stars. Your body is moving on its own, grinding against him, trying to prolong your pleasure, and you're vaguely aware of his groans and gasps as he clamps both hands down on your hips, holding you tight to him as he empties himself inside you.

 

You're both still for a few minutes, catching your breath in the wake of your orgasms. Asra moves first, slowly standing up straight and pulling out of you. Immediately, your legs give out without his support, and you're grateful for his arms wrapping around your waist to steady you as you slump against the mirror.

 

“Suppose I don't need to ask how it was, then,” There's laughter in his voice as he speaks, pulling you to rest against him instead of the glass. You hum contentedly, leaning into him as he shuffles you over to the bed, tucking you both under the blankets. A muttered spell and the candles in the room are extinguished, casting the room in darkness.

 

You're already half-asleep when you mutter, “Next time... you against the mirror.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> linky


	5. Lucio/F!Reader - Feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 5 - Feet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was an interesting one. Apparently interesting enough for almost 3k, enjoy!

“ _Lucio_.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“ _Stop._ ”

 

You can feel his lips turn up into a smirk against your throat, even as he adopts an innocent tone to respond to you. “Stop what, darling?”

 

He can't see your face from his position, wrapped around you from behind with his face tucked into your neck, but you glare at him from the corner of your eye anyway. “You know precisely what.”

 

“Got no idea what you're talking about,” He isn't even trying to sound convincing now, his voice going low and sultry as he nips at the skin below your ear. You gasp as he pulls it between his lips, sucking at your flesh until the spot is hot and pulsing. When you open your mouth to reprimand him again, your voice comes out breathy.

 

“I-I've got work to do, Lucio. Not right now..”

 

He scoffs at that, tightening his arms around you as if to say you'll have to be more convincing to get rid of him. He resumes his work of steadily marking your throat, each touch of his lips making your squirm in his embrace. He's bored, you know – not in the sense that he has nothing else to do, but in the sense that nothing else is capable of holding his interest at the moment. Which, honestly, is often the case when it comes to you; he always finds an excuse to shirk his responsibilities when you're in the vicinity, no matter how busy either of you are. You aren't sure whether you should be flattered or exasperated.

 

At the moment, you're leaning toward the latter.

 

“ _Lucio_ , come on. I'm not in the mood right now,” You're proud of how steady your voice comes out, but the effect is somewhat ruined by how your head tilts to grant him more access to your neck. He hums in approval, nuzzling at you.

 

“Mm, and I thought I was doing a pretty good job of _getting_ you in the mood.”

 

He is, loathe as you are to admit it. However much you gripe or complain, his touch is never unwanted, his embrace never turned away. You could adopt a firm stance right this very moment and he'd let go – he would pout about it, sure, but he _would_ let go – but if you're honest with yourself, you don't want him to. It's comfortable here in his arms, and you'd spend the rest of your days between them if you could. But you really _do_ need to get your work done, which won't happen with him practically hanging off of you and, frankly, his mouth at your throat is incredibly distracting.

 

“Alright,” You sigh, turning in his grasp to face him. That ever-present smirk of his grows wider, thinking you'd finally given in to his whims, and he leans in for a kiss.. only to be stopped by your fingers against his lips. “I'll make you a deal.”

 

Lucio's face pinches in displeasure at being denied, his tone slightly petulant. “What deal?”

 

Your hand caresses his cheek tenderly in apology, curling around his jaw as you kiss the pout from his lips. “If you behave yourself and let me work for the next… hour, then I will give you my undivided attention for the rest of the night.”

 

He's silent for a moment, considering. “And what am I supposed to do for the next hour?”

 

You gesture to the bookshelf on the far end of the room with a shrug. “I'm sure you can find something to occupy yourself, so do we have a deal?”

 

“....Fine,” His arms drop from around your waist, and you can't stop the squeak you make as he gives your rear a firm squeeze as they go. “But _only_ an hour.” And then he slips away, off to find something to do before he can claim his prize. You roll your eyes as he goes, and turn back to your work; you'd better get started.

 

Twenty minutes later, you're halfway through an inventory list when he finally breaks. Slamming the book in his hands closed, he throws it onto the table beside the lounge chair he'd been reclining in, and sighs – loudly, dramatically. And again, closer, when you don't react the first time.

 

“Already given up?” You say, not looking up from the documents in front of you. You hear the clacking of his heeled boots against the wood floors, before his hands are planted firmly on the counter on either side of you and his mouth finds your neck again. “ _Ah.._ it's only been twenty minutes, Lucio.”

 

“You know how hard it is for me to focus on anything when you're around,” He murmurs, pressed against you insistently.

 

You laugh at that. “Well, you're making it remarkably difficult for me to focus right now. I thought you were going to behave?”

 

Lucio groans, pressing his forehead to the back of your neck. “Can't you just finish that later? We hardly see each other anymore, and you're working when we could be spending time together.”

 

“We just saw each other yesterday, Lucio. It's hardly an extended amount of time.”

 

“It feels longer when you're not around,” He mutters, and.... alright, that got you. You turn, looking into his pouting face, and smile softly.

 

“You miss me in the palace that much?”

 

His face pinks, like he's embarrassed to have been called out. “I... just realized my bed is too big for one person.”

 

Pecking his lips lightly, you pull back and wink. “Mine is much cozier.”

 

With that, you duck under his arms and head for the stairs. It only takes a moment for Lucio to follow after you, he's always been able to tell when a situation is turning in his favor. As soon as you have both feet on the second floor landing, you're wrapped up again, his head swooping in to capture your lips like a man starved. You return his kiss, opening your mouth with a moan to welcome his eager tongue as it sweeps in to taste you.

 

He can't seem to keep his hands still; they roam all over your body as if trying to touch everywhere at once, clutching you closer, pushing at your clothes, angling your head to deepen the kiss. You're urged backward, toward the bed in the middle of the room, and you both inch toward it without breaking apart.

 

The backs of your knees hit the edge of it, and you finally part from each other when Lucio decides to unceremoniously shove you onto it, watching as you bounce once before sinking into the pile of plush pillows and blankets. He puts on knee on the bed, about to join you and continue what he'd started, but you hold your hand out to halt him. “Wait.”

 

He frowns, impatient, but stops to hear what you have to say. “What now?”

 

Shuffling back until you're propped up on the pillows, you level a look at him. “We have to decide on your punishment.”

 

His expression immediately sours, his mouth opening to argue indignantly. “Punishment?! I didn't do anything!”

 

“I seem to recall,” You start, voice patient. “Asking you to behave yourself while I worked?”

 

He flushes, looking away, which is about as much of an admission of guilt as you'll get from him. You appraise him, thinking over your options as he fidgets under your scrutiny.

 

“Take your shirt off,” you say finally. A look of mild confusion crosses his face, but his hands move to obey anyway, unclasping the hook holding his cape to his shoulder and letting it fall to the ground before unbuttoning his shirt and taking it and the sash with the medals decorating it off. You're still not sure what they're for, the story he tells you about them is different and more grand each time you ask, so you've learned to just stop asking.

 

Now, they decorate your floor as he drops his clothes to the ground. He starts to reach for the button to his pants, but you tut at him and he freezes, returning his hands to his sides. Standing at your feet, half-naked and waiting for instructions; not an unfamiliar sight in any sense, but one you don't think you'll ever get tired of.

 

“Kneel.”

 

Again, Lucio shoots you a sour look, but obliges, sinking to first one knee, then the other, sitting back on his heels at the foot of your bed. You reposition yourself so that you're seated in front of him, your feet between his spread legs, looking down at him from above.

 

“Tonight,” you begin, leaning back on your hands, “you are not allowed to touch me.”

 

At once, you can tell he's about to protest. His head snaps up, eyes flashing with indignation, but you glare at him before he can open his mouth to voice his opinions. “I'll remind you, my dear, you brought this on yourself.”

 

You wait, but he doesn't try to argue again. “Are you going to be good for me this time?”

 

His mouth quirks at the 'this time' added to the end of the question, but he nods once. “Yes, ma'am.”

 

“Good.” Lifting your foot, you start to drag it lightly up and down the inside of his thigh. His legs tense briefly at the contact, but relax when nothing else happens. “You know, it's really a shame you couldn't be more patient.”

 

He doesn't respond, silver eyes glued to your face, tracking every shift of your expression for some clue of where this is going. You smile enigmatically at him. “I mean, I would've been yours for the entire night. You could've had me however you wanted...”

 

“Like maybe had me bent over the counter downstairs,” As you speak, your foot inches higher and higher, Lucio still eyeing you suspiciously. “I remember the last time you did that. We almost got caught by a guard, that came in because I was screaming so loud. They thought someone was being attacked. You barely waited until the door closed behind them before you pushed your cock back inside me, then fucked me so hard I was sore for _days_.”

 

He gasps, head snapping down to look at your foot as it nudges his groin, brushing over his hardening member. He glances back up at you, as if unsure if it's intentional. You meet his gaze steadily, without stopping the one-sided conversation.

 

“Or maybe I could've been laid out across the bed, like the time you tied me up, remember?” Judging by how hard he swallows, his eyes darkening, he does remember. “You bet me that you could make me come the hardest I ever had in my life. I admit, I underestimated you and your tenacity,” you sigh, dreamily. “I didn't tell you then, but that was the first time I'd ever squirted.”

 

Lucio makes a strangled sound, shifting forward, trying to get more pressure on his now half-hard cock. You pull your foot back just as much, keeping the same pressure on him. “ _Be still_ , Lucio.” He shudders at your sharp tone, clenching his hands against his thighs as he obeys, the claws on his artificial arm digging into his leg.

 

“Mm, or maybe,” You continue, drifting back to the bulge in his pants, rubbing in slow circles, curling your toes over what you can only guess is the head. “I could've gotten on my knees for _you_. Suck you so good you see stars, let you fuck my mouth,” He bites his lip, trying to muffle the whimpers clawing their way up his throat. “Maybe even let you fuck my tits.”

 

“ _Please,_ ” The word is quiet, hoarse, like he's speaking with a sore throat.

 

“Please what, love?” You ask, still grinding your foot against him. His hips twitch sporadically, involuntarily, into the pressure, and his body shakes with the effort of his restraint.

 

“ _Please, please – I-I need m– ah, hah aah – I need more,_ ” Lucio bites out, his head leaning back, eyes screwed shut. The flush on his skin is quite the lovely look on him, spreading down his neck and across his bare shoulders and chest. You take a moment to admire the sight, but the whine that erupts from his throat interrupts your ogling.

 

“More? This is a punishment, Lucio. More is for those who can obey.”

 

He sobs, nodding his head frantically. “I did, I am, I'm being good, I'm doing what you say–”

 

You lift your foot off of him, and he makes a dismayed sound, eyes snapping open to search for you. You tilt your head at him. “Do you think you deserve it?”

 

He blinks, not answering immediately, as if he thinks it's a trick question. You raise your eyebrow at him. “Y-yes, yes ma'am.”

 

“Alright,” You stand, and walk over to the nightstand beside the bed, opening the drawer and retrieving the little jar of lubricating oil you keep there for these occasions. As you return, you notice Lucio watching your every move intensely, eyes roving over every inch of your body as you seat yourself in front of him again. Setting the jar next to you on the bed, you issue another order. “Take off your pants.”

 

If he'd ever moved faster in his life, you've never seen it, his boots being pulled off and tossed aside carelessly, followed promptly by his pristine white pants. He, tellingly, wears no underwear underneath, and his cock bobs free, angry red and glistening with his pre. You hum approvingly as he resumes his kneeling position in front of you, satisfied that he hadn't needed to be told.

 

Taking up the jar of oil again, you unscrew the lid and pass it over to him. “You can touch my feet. But _only_ my feet.”

 

As he takes the jar from you, he glances between it and you in clear confusion. You lift one foot to nudge lightly at his balls, running up the underside of his cock with your toe, smiling as he trembles from the light touch. “Make yourself come.”

 

Understanding comes to his face, and he only hesitates for a moment before dipping his fingers in the viscous substance, gathering a generous amount and smearing it on the arc of your foot. He gives the other foot the same treatment, rubbing the oil onto your skin until they're both coated. When he reaches for the jar again, you grab it and place it out of reach, reminding him lightly. “I said _only_ my feet.”

 

His hands grip your ankles, raising himself up to his knees, and positions himself so that his cock is between the arches of your feet as he presses them together around it, sighing in relief as he finally get skin to skin contact on his sensitive flesh. “ _Haaah yeess_.”

 

His hold on your ankles is tight, firmly holding them in place as he fucks into the space between them. His pace gets desperate quickly, he's close, but a furrow appears between his eyebrows, little frustrated noises escaping him the longer he goes on.

 

As you watch on, he glances up at your face, his gaze pleading, and you know what he wants without him having to ask.

 

“Look at you, getting yourself off with my feet. Is that all it takes? A little bit of pressure against your cock to make you come?” He whimpers urgently, gripping your ankles even more tightly. “You're so close already, I can tell. And since I'm so good to you, do you know what I'm gonna let you do after you come?” His hips are stuttering under his frantic pace, and you lean forward as close as you can without ruining his grip to murmur:

 

“I'm gonna let you eat me out.”

 

He shouts as he comes, thick streams of white shooting out of him to splatter onto your legs, even reaching as far as the hem of your skirt, bunched up around your upper thighs. Lucio continues thrusting within the circle of your arches, drawing out his orgasm as long as possible before releasing your ankles, sitting back on his heels with a deep, satisfied sigh. You examine the mess on your legs, honestly amazed at how much there is, and then reach for him, curling your hands into his hair to pull him in for a soft, sweet kiss.

 

He hums happily as you part, opening his eyes to look at you dreamily. You giggle, face feeling warm from the softness in his gaze. “I suppose you're feeling better.”

 

Shifting, you start to get up, intent on running a bath, but pause when his hands grip your hips, holding you in place. “Lucio?”

 

You look into his face, noting he still has the post-orgasmic daze lingering, although it's fading quickly, replaced by something decidedly ravenous. He leans forward, pressing you back into the bed until he hovers over you. “We're not done here yet, darling.”

 

There's a loud _riiiip!_ as his clawed hand shreds through your skirt, the tattered cloth falling away from your body. You look at him in shock, but before you can open your mouth to let him have it, he sinks out sight, lifting your legs over his shoulders as he settles between them, winking up at you.

 

“I was promised a meal.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I give up on the link, my tumblr is kanookied, come say hi!


	6. Lucio/Reader - Cock Worship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 6 - Cock Worship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh it's not so much 'worship' as it is just Lucio appreciating a bj *shrugs*

“ _Deeper, deeper... ahh fuck._ ”

 

You oblige to Lucio's breathless request, slurping noisily as you take more of him into your mouth. The muscles of his stomach contract, his body curving inward as he tries to buck his hips up to meet you. His harsh breathing and moans are the only sounds in the room, though even if there _were_ anything else making noise, it would be easily drowned out by him.

 

That's not to say you dislike it though – you'd have gagged him if it were something you didn't enjoy, something you didn't look forward to whenever you had him like this. Even now, as his desperate cries echo throughout the room, urging you to go faster, to take him deeper, your face warms with the knowledge that it was you who reduced him to this. It resonates in you, a powerful feeling that settles deep in your gut and inspires you to redouble your efforts.

 

He's close, you can tell in the way he's suddenly watching you like a hawk, staring at his cock disappearing between your lips. The pleasured noises are quieter now, he's always less noisy when he nears his end – though no less talkative. If you listen, you can hear his mumbles: “ _That's it, just like that, ungh, suck me. Fuck you're – ssss, haah – so good at that, fuck yes use that tongue–_ ”

 

You reach up to cup and massage his balls, and he cuts himself off with a shout, his back arching as he plants his feet and thrusts his hips upward. “ _Ah, yes don't stop, oohh I'm gonna – ah, AH!”_

 

He comes with a curse, his eyes squeezed shut as the waves of pleasure roll over him. You ease him through it, keeping him in your mouth until you're sure you swallowed all he had to give. As you allow his cock to slip out, he groans, looking down at you in realization at the same time you grace him with a smile, giving his still hard member a firm stroke.

 

“Looks like the merchant wasn't lying when he said the tea would boost your stamina,” You say cheerfully, already ducking down to plant a kiss to the head. “But just to be sure, let's test it again.”

 


	7. Julian/GN!Reader - Aphrodisiacs + Praise Kink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 7 - Aphrodisiacs + Praise Kink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *rips off my shirt to reveal a t-shirt that says "I LOVE JULIAN DEVORAK"

You're used to Julian giving you heated looks, sometimes seemingly out of nowhere. The slow spread of a suggestive grin across his face, the provocative waggle of his eyebrows, the seductive glint in his eyes; all of it is familiar to you by now, as well as how frequent you're on the receiving end of such looks, and how readily you return them in most situations.

But the look you find yourself attracting now is... nothing short of _ravenous_.

Julian sits across the room, where up until a few minutes ago he'd been educating himself on the theory of magic by borrowing a few of the heavy tomes from your bookshelf. He'd settled in, obviously planning to stay a while – you didn't mind, always welcoming his company, even when you're not directly interacting with each other. So, placing a fresh cup of tea on the small table in the little nook he'd occupied, you planted a on his cheek and went about your business.

For about an hour, the only sounds had been your footsteps as you flitted to and fro, organizing the shop and mixing simple remedies, and the turning of pages as he diligently studied his newest craft. Every now and then you'd feel eyes on you, and when you looked, he'd have a fond smile on his face as he watched you in your natural state.

But now, the with the sensation of being watched prickling the back of your neck once again, you note that the sound of turning pages has been mysteriously absent for the last little while.

You turn to look at Julian, thinking to ask if he's done reading, and you're met with a stare so intense that you instinctively take a step back, shocked. Again, it's not odd for him to turn bedroom eyes to you at random times – his libido is ridiculously high, not that you're complaining. But a gaze with such a singular focus, tracking every movement as if missing a single one would be the death of him... you'd only ever seen _that_ in the midst of a passionate session of love making.

“J–” Your voice cracks in your astonishment, and you take a moment to clear your throat. “Julian? Are you alright?”

He blinks at the sound of your voice, and shakes his head, as if clear his head. “Yes, darling. Why do you ask?”

You step around the island counter you'd been stationed at, walking closer to his seat in the far corner of the room, aware of his eyes following your movements. Once you're standing directly in front of him, you place a hand on his forehead, checking his temperature. Julian's eyes close at your touch, and he takes in a deep, shuddering breath.

“You're a little warm,” You say, shifting your hand to his cheek. He leans his face into it, almost on instinct, nuzzling your hand like he craves the affection. “But not enough to be feverish.”

Though, considering how cool his skin is usually, perhaps it's more of an indicator to how he's feeling than you'd normally think. Should you get him to lie down? If you recall, there's ingredients in the kitchen that you can use to make porridge – something warm and light on the stomach might make him feel better with rest.

You're distracted from thinking by the sudden sensation of teeth on your skin, and looking down, see Julian with his head turned toward your palm, gently nipping at it, then soothing the spot he'd just bitten by planting kiss over it. His hand is on your wrist, holding it in place, while the other skims slowly up your leg, coming to grip your hip and nudge you closer.

It seems he's feeling rather... affectionate. You place your other hand on his opposite cheek, tilting his face up so that he's looking at you as well. He looks flushed, a stark pink spreading across his face as he stares at you with wide grey eyes.

“Julian, how are you feeling right now?” You ask.

He licks his lips, answering in a husky voice. “I feel... warm. Very warm. Like I could combust at any moment. And you,” his other hand detaches from your wrist to rest on your hip, “feel delightfully cool, right now.”

You don't resist as he tugs you closer, willing to offer comfort for him. He leans forward until he can place his forehead against your stomach, breathing in deeply and letting it out in a sigh.

Your fingers run through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp as they sift through the red strands. “Maybe you should lie down... do you think you can make it upstairs to the bed?”

For a moment, you think he didn't hear you, because his only reaction is to press his face more firmly to your belly. But just when you're about to repeat yourself, he mumbles against you, muffled by your clothes, “.... Bed... yes, I can do that.”

Then... he just sits there. Makes no attempt to move other than nestling his head against you, his arms wrapping around your waist.

What now? He needs to rest, but you don't want to push him in case he's feeling faint and just taking his time. But from his body language, he doesn't seem intent on moving beyond getting as close to you as possible...

You tug lightly at his hair, just trying to get his attention, but he whines, clutching you tighter as if someone's trying to take his favorite toy from him. You smile fondly, your voice soft when you speak. “Julian... it'll be much more comfortable to cuddle in bed...”

Julian gives a small sound that lets you know he heard you, then after another moment, sighs and loosens his hold. You step back, giving him room to get up, and hold out your hand to help him. He takes it, immediately, like not having contact with you causes him physical pain, and stands, following behind you as you lead him through the front room of the shop and up the stairs. You usher him over to the bed in the middle of the room, piled high with plush pillows and blankets askew.

The moment he sits he reaches for you again, but you bat at his hands lightly until they drop back to his sides. “Take off your shoes and lie back.”

For some reason, the statement brings a flush to his face, vivid red against his pale skin as he promptly follows your direction, fumbling with the buckles of his tall boots. As soon as they both lie haphazardly across the floor, he scrambles back until he rests against the soft piles of pillows, looking at you eagerly like he's waiting for more instruction.

…Oh. It all makes sense now.

“J-Julian,” Your voice cracks again, but you continue speaking. “You said you feel warm, like you might combust. Do you have a headache? Feel any tightness anywhere? Trouble breathing?”

The intense stare is back, tinged with a sense of impatience as he answers, slowly. “I feel... an urge.”

“An urge to do what?”

“An urge... to _ravish_ you.”

His next words come out in a rush, like once he's let the idea out he can't hold it back. “It's like this crawling, under my skin. A want – a _need_ – to have you in my arms, to pleasure you until your voice goes hoarse from crying out for me. I'd do anything you asked of me, anything at all, if I could have that.” He'd been running his hands fitfully through his hair, pulling at the strands as if that could free him of this affliction, but now he looks up at you again, the strain on his face evident. “Can I? Would you let me? Please?”

There's a duty you have, you know. To figure out what it is that's wrong with him – an aphrodisiac, you think – to find some way to help. And depending on what it is he's taken, you'd wager it wouldn't be that difficult to mix a quick and effective remedy. All of this, you know. Your brain is sternly reciting it to you, word for word, to the reasonable part of you.

But you take one look at the pleading, lustful expression on Julian's face and you know you'd give him anything he wanted.

His eyes follow you as you move to the side of the bed, tracking the movements of your hands as they shift around your clothing until it falls away, his gaze piercing as he takes in the lines of your body, raking over the newly bared skin. But for all that your actions are clearly implied to be granting his request, he doesn't move. His breathing is rapid, his fists clenched into tight fists on his thighs, and he has to be suffering under the effects of the aphrodisiac, but he stays still. Waiting, you know, for your explicit, verbal permission.

There's a feeling akin to pride blooming in your chest, along with no small amount of affection.

You climb onto the bed, shuffling closer on your knees, and notice that his body grows more and more tense the nearer you get. The veins on his neck are standing out by the time you come to a stop at his side, an effort clear on his features. You reach out to touch his shoulder and receive a strained grunt in response, his whole body shuddering at the contact.

“Alright,” You say, finally, smiling indulgently. “You can have me.”

The words have barely left your mouth before you find yourself on your back, lips suddenly occupied by your lover as he groans in relief into your mouth. His kiss is quickly passionate, as if trying to have all of you at once, his hands restless as they roam your body, never staying in once place very long. His body presses you into the mattress, and as you savor the feel of him against you, you become aware of the evidence of his arousal, pressing firm to your thigh.

“Tell me,” He gasps against your lips. “Tell me what you want me to do. Anything.”

His lips trail across your jaw, hot open-mouthed kisses marking their path as they descend to your throat. He finds a particularly sensitive spot and latches on, nipping and sucking at the skin until you gasp and grab two handfuls of his hair. When you tug, he doesn't put up the slightest resistance, allowing you to guide him back into a heated kiss. He clutches you to him tight, no indication of letting go as you both kiss each other senseless; at least until you go to hook a leg around his hip, trying to get closer, and realize he's still dressed.

“Your clothes,” you say, in between kisses, “Take them off. I wanna feel you.”

The downside is that you have to let go for Julian to follow your order, the upside is that you've never seen him (or anyone, for that matter) take off and discard his clothes so quickly in your life, as if the fabric itself has caught fire. Soon enough, he is just as bare as you, collapsing against you with urgency – you welcome him with open arms, wrapping yourself around him as he meets you in a kiss once more.

And now, like this, you can feel every inch of his body pressed to yours and the sensation of skin to skin lights a fire within your core. No matter how many times you come together like this, it never ceases to amaze you just how quickly Julian can get you going; for as long as you can remember, in the limited memory you have, you cannot recall anyone ever having this effect on you. This warmth, this passion, this desire – it belongs solely to Julian.

You roll your hips against his, and the friction is absolutely _divine_. Julian tenses in your arms, groaning low in his throat. One of his hands reaches down, gripping your thigh and pulling it up to wrap around his waist, before he grinds, slow and firm and perfect, into you. You moan into his mouth, wrapping your other leg around him as you set into a rhythm, rutting against each other.

The feel of him is overwhelmingly good, his cock rubbing against you deliciously, his moans and whimpers mingling with your own between your mouths and then muffled into your neck when oxygen becomes a necessity; your arousal is stoked higher and higher until the desire to have him becomes a need. You're certain that you yourself will combust if you don't have him inside you very very soon.

“Julian,” you gasp, “Julian, I-I need _ahh,_ I need you... right now.. _mmm ha-ah.._ ”

He curses, lifting himself onto his forearms, lending himself more leverage to grind harder against you.

“ _Ah! Aah, ohh_ Julian _please_!”

“How–” he's cut off by a moan, clawing itself out of his throat directly into your ear, “h-how do you want me?”

It takes a moment, in your frantic state, to realize what he's asking. “Just like this, come on.”

He nods, pulling away to retrieve the little jar of lubricant from your bedside table. It takes too long for him to find it in your opinion, shuffling through letters and knickknacks as he searches. Despite knowing it'll be more of a hindrance than help, you lift yourself up, cupping a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him down so you can clamp your teeth down on the muscle between his neck and shoulder.

The cry Julian gives is musical, symphonic, beautiful. His body trembles in your arms as you soothe the bite with your tongue; it'll leave a mark, which he'll be pleased about.

When you finally release him, you see he has the jar he'd been looking for, fumbling with the lid in his haste to get it open. His fingers are dipped and slicked in no time at all, the first of them pressed to your entrance. As always, he pauses, waiting for permission first, and it makes you smile knowing that even with how desperate you both are for each other, even with the effect of the aphrodisiac still in his system, he makes sure to get confirmation of your desire to continue.

At your nod, he presses his finger into you, seemingly in no rush to stretch you. Despite the impatience of just two scant minutes ago, he takes his time, thrusting his finger in and out, only adding another when you roll your hips against his hand. When he's got three fingers inside of you, thrusting fully as you push back against them, you finally say:

“Okay! Okay eno– _ahh–_ enough! Hurry, hurry!”

The brief few seconds he takes to remove his fingers and hurriedly apply more lubricant to his cock seems like it lasts a lifetime. You're on the verge of asking him to hurry again when he finally grabs your hips, lining himself up and pushing in fully in one smooth motion. Your pleasured cry is matched by his own, his grip tight on you as he pauses with his hips pressed to yours, body shaking with the effort of not simply pounding away.

Except that's exactly what you want right now, goddammit. “ _Ah,_ Julian. Come on, _move. Fuck me._ ”

He makes a strangled sound, eyes squeezed shut as he breathes in deeply, then nods once. “Yes, darling.”

He slides out slowly, achingly slowly, and pushes back in at the same speed, setting a torturous pace that has you writhing against him. One of your hands clutches the sheets beneath you in a tight fist, while the other wraps around the back of his neck again, pulling him down into a kiss. He pants into your mouth, breathing like he's just run a mile, moaning against you as he maintains the snail-like pace.

You can't help the whine that escapes you, pulling away from the kiss and pressing your foreheads together, your breaths mingling. “Julian, _please._ I need _more._ Faster, harder, anything – god just, _more_.”

His eyes blink open and meet yours, desperation and restraint prominent on his face. “I-I'm, _haah,_ I'm afraid – I won't last long... _fuck, ahh.._ ”

“Just – just fuck me, as long as you can then.”

Nodding his head, he shifts his weight so that his legs are spread a bit wider, placing his hands on the back of your knees and pushing up until they can go no further, opening your body up for him. Then he pulls out slowly, pauses, takes a deep breath, and slams back in.

He cries out nearly as loudly as you, even as he immediately pulls back and does it again, setting a fast, brutal pace, the sound of skin slapping filling the room as he gives you what you wanted. The feeling of getting well and truly fucked spreads throughout your body, your shouts leaving you unimpeded.

He'd wanted you to cry out for him – you don't think you could stop if you tried.

Your hands reach up for him, clutching at his arms, neck, shoulders; anything you can reach to ground yourself. When you drag your nails harshly down his chest after a particularly well-aimed thrust, Julian curses, grip tightening on your knees as he leans forward a bit more.

“Are – _shit_ – are you close?” He asks through clenched teeth, eyes tightly shut in concentration.

You wedge a hand between your bodies, fingers stroking frantically at your sex; you nod. “A-almost.. keep – keep going... you feel so good, you're fucking me s-so good.”

He whimpers at your words, his thrusts starting to lose rhythm. “Tell me.. tell me – _Mmn –_ m-more.. how it feels.. _ngh_..”

“So good,” you say, reverent. “You f-feel amazing _ah_ , perfect. _You're_ perfect, Julian. So gorgeous, always so good for me...”

A shiver runs through his body, his back bowing as he collapses to his forearms, his voice hoarse as he warns you, urgently. “ _Haah,_ I can't – it's so – _ngh, fuck_ I'm gonna–“

You stroke yourself faster, arching into him as his thrusts grow erratic. “Me – me too.. come on, _come with me.._ ”

Julian doesn't need to be told twice, pounding into you a few more times before he presses flush against you and comes, face buried in your shoulder to muffle his shout. You aren't far behind, your hand and the feel of his warmth flooding you sends you over the edge, crying out his name.

The room seems unnaturally quiet after, the only sounds your labored breathing. Julian is heavy against you, but not uncomfortably so, and you're honestly in no rush to get him to move. You manage to gather the energy to reach up, one hand wrapping around his shoulder while the other rakes through his sweaty hair, cradling his head to your chest. He's still warm against you, but you can feel his length softening inside you.

“Julian?” you call, voice soft. He grunts in response; he must have been nearly asleep. “Do you feel better now?”

His face nuzzles against your neck, and he sighs, sleepily. “I feel fantastic, actually. Thank you, my dear.”

You laugh at that. “Anytime. But, do you know what it was that made you feel that way? Something you ate or drank, maybe?”

He makes a thoughtful noise, thinking it over. “Perhaps the tea additive I borrowed from Mazelinka.”

“Tea additive?”

“Someone had asked for something to.. 'restore their vitality'. At the time, I'd thought it was just an alternative to coffee. I took a bit for myself, to try later. And when you gave me that tea earlier, I thought it was the perfect opportunity.”

“Wait, let me get this straight,” You say, incredulous. “You took some medicine without asking what it was, and with no idea of the effects, and it turned out to be an _aphrodisiac_?”

When he answers, he sounds a little embarrassed. “Well – yes, I suppose that's the long and short of it.”

You can't help it; you burst out laughing, jostling him against you. He joins in after a moment, both of you clutching each other in your laughter, giddy in the afterglow of your love-making.

 

**BONUS:**

Asra stands downstairs, frozen, halfway through unwinding his scarf from around his neck. There's a faraway look in his eyes – he doesn't respond even when Faust slithers across him, winding herself around his body in concern. It isn't until the sounds of moans start drifting down the stairs again that he moves, replacing the scarf on his neck and picking his travel bag up.

“You know, I think we can extend our absence a bit longer, Faust,” He says, walking quickly out the front door. Faust only tilts her head in confusion, forked tongue poking out as Asra locks the door behind him and hurries down the street, as if he can outrun the sounds already seared into his brain.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry, Asra. *snrk*


	8. Asra/GN!Reader - Body Swap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 8 - Body Swap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My laptop cut off like 4 times while I was writing this, but hopefully my paranoid writing speed didn't sacrifice too much quality.

You like to think you know Asra's body pretty well by now. After all this time together; all the days spent carding your hands through his hair, tickling at the spots that made him laugh, all the nights spent finding new ways to make him shout and cry for you – you're confident that you know his body as well as he knows yours.

 

But as you watch as he leans forward in your body to take his own cock down your throat, you realize you hadn't considered how well he knows himself.

 

His tongue is heavenly, licking at all the right spots like he's done it a million times, pulling little involuntary sounds from you. He uses it expertly, mercilessly, rubbing over the prominent vein on the underside, prodding at the tip when he pulls back. He's had all his life to discover what he likes, and is using all of that knowledge to turn you into a mess.

 

It's odd, watching yourself pleasure someone else. Not a sight you'd expect to enjoy in any other circumstance, but there's something different about the way your features shift, the pitch in your voice slightly off, enough that you can clearly recognize Asra in you, that makes it arousing. He seems to have no problems with the situation, looking up at you lustfully as he bobs his head, making little needy noises around your – his – shaft.

 

Your back arches, a gasp escaping your open mouth, the sound of Asra's voice sending an unexpected shiver down your spine. He's sensitive, a lot more than you'd expected, every touch of his – your – tongue sending jolts of white hot pleasure through you. He swoops down, taking you nearly to the root, hollowing his cheeks on the way back up and you can't stop your hips from bucking up. He chokes slightly as you push in a bit too deep, but before you can apologize, he moans, going slack and opening his mouth wider, looking up at you encouragingly.

 

Again, you're struck by how strange it is to see yourself like this, to see your body from an angle you'd never experience otherwise, to witness how arousal affects you from the eyes of someone else. You have to say, from what you've seen so far, it's a rather flattering look on you.

 

One made even more appealing when his eyes flutter shut, the sound Asra makes muffled around you as you grant his silent request and start thrusting into his mouth. You try to keep your own eyes open, to watch your cock disappear into his mouth, but find yourself leaning your head back, casting your moans to the air above you as the pleasure assaults you.

 

Until another noise grabs your attention, and the vibration of Asra's whimpers around you increase in frequency. When you look down at him, you see his hand between his legs, moving frantically as he lets you fuck his mouth. Desperate noises filter out of him, eyebrows pinching together, eyes screwed shut as he masturbates. Your breath catches at the sight, core tightening; you're close, very quickly closing in on the edge, but you want him to get there with you, to fall over that precipice with him him.

 

“ _Ahh, A-Asra.. I'm – fuck, I'm so close.. are you?_ ”

 

He whines, managing a nod, his hand moving faster between his legs as his body tenses up. Your hips are starting to stutter, thrusts becoming erratic – you couldn't stop yourself if you tried.

 

When you do come, it's to the sound of a muffled cry, high and strained. Your own shout is offered to the sky, back arching as you claw at the ground beneath you, vision turning white. There's a strange pulling sensation that accompanies the rush of pleasure, followed by a wave of vertigo that makes you feel like you're floating.

 

There's something in your mouth, suddenly. Warm and thick, with a bitter and salty aftertaste that's incredibly familiar. Pulling back, you blink your eyes open to be met with the sight of... a dick. Shiny with saliva, framed by curly, fluffy looking white hair and an expanse of caramel skin, still twitching from a recent orgasm. Asra.

 

You look up and find him already staring down at you, amethyst eyes alight with concern and slight panic. He visibly relaxes when he meets your confused gaze, reaching down to caress your cheek.

 

“You okay? All in one piece?” He asks, face tender.

 

Your hand is still between your legs, where he'd left it. You detract it, grimacing at the sight of the moisture on it, then nod at his question. “All things considered, yeah, I'm okay.”

 

A smile spreads across his face, and he turns to look at the pool beside you, flower resting serenely in the center, as if nothing out of the ordinary had transpired. “Well, that's one way to undo a spell, I suppose.”

 

The snort that escapes you is followed by a short peal of laughter. “What, you mean an orgasm has the power to overwrite magical body swapping?”

 

“A _simultaneous_ orgasm. At least, that's what I think did it,” Asra's smile turns mischievous. “Of course, we can always try again, just to make sure..”

 

“ _Absolutely not._ ”

 

His laugh is cut short by a shout of surprise as you splash him with the water, but then he only laughs harder.

 


	9. Julian/GN!Reader - Hand Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Fill for Kinktober Day 9 - Hand Job (actually day 22 prompt but rules are made to be broken)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let's try this again, shall we?

"Ah, a-are you.. are you sure we should - _haah_ \- be doing.. this?"

"It'll be fine as long as we don't get caught, right?"

You suspect the look Julian gives you is meant to be dubious, but it's ruined by his eyes rolling back in his head as you twist your wrist, his hips bucking into your hand. You watch his face, captivated by the change in his expressions as he's pleasured - his eyelids fluttering, mouth opening to gasp and moan before he remembers where he is and bites down on his lip to contain his noises. The lovely flush on his face has crept down to his neck, and you give in to the urge to swoop in and bite down on the column of his throat. The action startles a moan out of him, his hand coming up to cup the back of your neck - a silent request to do it again.

"Mmn, yes - _ah, harder_ -"

You comply, increasing the speed of your hand just a bit, and Julian slaps his other hand over his mouth to muffle his cry.

There's a sound a ways off - a door closing - and you both pause, listening for footsteps or voices. Two people, walking toward your hiding spot, chatting with each other. Hopefully, they just walk past and move on.

...Aaaand no such luck. For some reason, they decide to stop directly outside of the little closet you and Julian had taken refuge in, apparently in the midst of some kind of spirited debate. Julian shifts, like he's preparing to button up and bolt, and you start to let go of him when a truly wicked idea pops into your brain.

His hips twitch in response to the teasing stroke of your thumb over the head of his cock, his eyes turning a wide-eyed, horrified look at you. You watch him carefully, looking for any sign of rejection to your idea, but he makes mo move to stop you, instead making a questioning gesture with his hands. Smiling sweetly, you lean in and whisper in his ear:

"Shall we see how quiet you can be, love?"

Another swipe of your thumb and he's biting his lip again, his brows furrowing. He doesn't try to answer verbally, but from the way he squares his feet under him and meets your gaze, it's clear he's accepting your challenge.

_"-the hell do you mean there's no more? We just got a whole box yesterday!"_

_"How should I know? I only heard about it this morning. Didn't even get to see 'em..."_

You start to stroke him again in long, slow pulls, more teasing than anything. His hands grip at the shelves behind him, head dropping forward and tucking his chin into his chest as his hips start to move in sync with your strokes.

_"Man, I was really lookin' forward to havin' one fer ma'self. Not easy to find one, let alone a whole box!"_

You start to trail kisses along his jaw, taking his earlobe between your teeth. You don't bite down, but the action alone gets a reaction from Julian; he lets out a shaky exhale, tilting his head and baring his neck to you again. A request.

_"Not really sure how they could be gone so fast. There were so many... unless somebody up an' took the whole box, there has to be some left."_

When you bite down on his neck again, he whines softly, his whole body shuddering against you. He starts thrusting faster, prompting you to speed up, his cock leaking steadily and making the slide of your palm much smoother.

_"Well, let's check. The box got put in a closet, right? Was it this one?"_

You're so focused on sucking a mark into Julian's neck that you almost miss that statement. You freeze, halfway to panicking as you hear the sound of footsteps walking closer to the door. Julian apparently hadn't heard it though, as his hips are still moving, bucking into your grasp, his voice murmuring into your ear ' _so close, so close, aahh_ '.

_"Nah, that one's empty. We put it in the closet near the front."_

_"What? Why? Damn near can't close that one as it is!"_

_"Nobody comes near this one 'cept us. Everybody else thinks it's haunted."_

_"No wonder they always pass off the jobs over here to us. Buncha pinheads..."_

You let out the breath you'd been holding, feeling your heart leave your throat as the voices fade along with the footsteps. In front of you, Julian is bordering desperation, panting as he buries his face into your shoulder, pleading. "Please.. please I'm close, just-just a little m-more, _ungh_.."

With your unoccupied hand, you cup his jaw and coax him to lift his head, leaning in to kiss him once he does. He whimpers into your mouth, opening his own to welcome your tongue. Your hand drifts down, reaching the opening of his pants and wriggling underneath to cup and massage his balls.

" _Fuck_!"

Luckily there's no one nearby to hear Julian's accidental outburst. He himself doesn't seem to notice how loud he'd just been, too focused on desperately fucking into your fist. So focused, that he forgets to muffle his moans, tilting his head back against the shelves and groaning into the enclosed space. The sight of him getting lost in pleasure is so glorious that you decide not to reprimand him.

It only takes a few more strokes before he falls apart, one hand still clutching at the shelves like his life depends on it, while the other cups the back of your neck and pulls you in, capturing your lips in a deep kiss. He moans helplessly as the waves of pleasures wash over him, hips erratically pushing forward and back as you continue to stroke him, prolonging his pleasure. When you finally let go, he collapses against the shelf, panting like he'd just run a mile.

Focusing your magic, you run your hands over the front of his clothes, clearing the streaks of semen from them before tucking his softening cock back into his pants. He doesn't bother fastening them in place as he reaches for you, pulling you against him and kissing you softly.

"Thank you, my dear," Julian says smiling against your lips. "Allow me to return the favor."

His hand wanders down, starting to dip beneath your waistband but you grip his wrist to stop him. "We should probably get out of here before they come to investigate the 'ghostly moans'."

He pouts for a moment but nods, standing up properly and fastening his trousers and belt into place. "You're right as usual, but..." His hand grasps yours, lifting it to his lips and planting a kiss to your knuckles. "Promise me we'll continue this later?"

You give him a seductive smile, placing your other hand on the door as your intertwine your fingers with his. "I promise."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr @ kanookied!


	10. Lucio/GN!Reader - Masturbation + Orgasm Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for Kinktober Day 10 - Masturbation + Orgasm Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be Julian but Lucio wouldn't leave me alone. Typical.

“Stop.”

Lucio chokes out a sob, wrenching his hands away from his body with visible effort and squirming where he leans back against you. You watch his fingers as they curl into fists in the sheets at his sides as he struggles to take deep breaths, his desire to just take his length in hand and work himself until he spills obvious in the way his arms tremble and twitch.

He won't though. He'll whine and curse and complain but he won't disobey – not when the reward you'd promised is within reach.

Before his breathing has started to even, you speak: “Again.”

He shudders when he wraps his hand around his cock – leaking generously and so flushed with blood that it's nearly purple – and starts stroking quickly, the same pace you'd told him to maintain. His head leans into your chest, eyes rolling back in his head before slipping closed as his hips twitch into the friction, a high-pitched whine leaving him. He's close, and desperate for release, but you're not ready to give him what he wants just yet.

“ _Aah_ , I-I'm close – I'm so cl- _fuck_ I'm gonna come–”

“Stop.”

He cries out, hands shooting away from his cock so quickly you think he'd have taken the skin off had he been any faster. His hips don't stop moving, thrusting up into the air as his body searches for contact on his engorged member. It twitches so hard against his stomach that for a long moment, you think he's going to come anyway. But when he collapses against you, panting heavily, he hasn't spilled a drop.

You smooth a hand over his chest, the other petting his hair comfortingly as he gasps in lungful after lungful of air. There are little whimpering sounds mixed into his breaths, whining noises that are so pathetic you're almost convinced to have mercy. Almost.

Planting a sweet kiss to his sweat-soaked temple, you place your lips at his ear and whisper: “Again.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come talk to me @kanookied on tumblr!

**Author's Note:**

> Visit me on Tumblr


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